


Fire on Tatooine

by Sulis57



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Attraction, Clone Wars, Comfort, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Jedi, Jedi Code, Kissing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, Nightmares, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Poor Obi-Wan, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Pre-Star Wars: A New Hope, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, Tatooine, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 13:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14833520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulis57/pseuds/Sulis57
Summary: Five years into Obi-Wan Kenobi's exile on Tatooine the Jedi knows he has become reclusive and lonely. A brief encounter with a lovely yet mysterious stranger dredges up old memories, both pleasant and painful, leading Kenobi to find comfort in unexpected places. Perhaps the Force has been watching out for him after all.She opened her eyes and took in his features; the handsome sharp brow line, the broad nose, the soft eyelashes. He was a little weathered, a little crinkled from the sun, and his hair was uncharacteristically unkempt due to the constant high desert winds, but she thought the look suited him.





	Fire on Tatooine

**Author's Note:**

> A special gift for serendipityaey for providing me with the audio of Ewan McGregor and Tom Hiddleston in _Othello_. Bless you, friend, for your kindness and for bringing us Ewan fans closer together :)
> 
> Here's a little fluffy fic for you. I hope you all enjoy!

It had been a long time since Obi-Wan Kenobi shared a room with another person much less a woman. Five years of exile had taught him a great deal about self-sufficiency; he unwillingly learned about deafening silence and the risk of being alone with his thoughts for too long. He understood the personalized torment of isolation and the snares in his subconscious; he had nightmares and carried on conversations with himself.

Sharing his space with another walking, talking human being made Kenobi starkly aware that he had become… odd.

As he watched the sleeping woman, stretched out on her back, an arm draped over her eyes as she snored, he realized he was jealous of her uninhibited manners. She didn’t seem to care that he was strange, and she didn’t apologize for being her natural self, so why should he?

Though he wouldn’t have minded an apology for the unfathomably loud snoring.

The truth was, Kenobi didn’t really mind that he communed with banthas or had no friends or rarely slept. The nightmares were what worried him. What if he cried out or confessed something or woke sobbing? No one could ever be allowed to see him that way. Ever. Especially not this unexpected houseguest.

No matter what the Force wanted from him, no matter how obvious it was that the Force had purposefully placed another human directly in his orbit, this time Obi-Wan Kenobi was not getting involved.

He’d had enough.

He wondered, not for the first time, how he had gotten himself into this mess.

  


* * *

  


Kenobi had been in the market three days ago, minding his own business while he searched for power couplings and converters in a scrap shop when two creatures crashed through the door, sprawling across the floor in a violent flare of arms and legs. The shopkeeper and Kenobi watched while the two, a Rodian and a human, rolled back and forth, screaming and punching like wild animals.

In truth, Obi-Wan had seen better-behaved wild animals.

When the brawlers rolled into a teetering scrap pile, bringing the entire heap down with an earsplitting clatter, the shopkeeper could stand it no longer and he ran off to find the authorities. Deciding it was best to leave, Obi-Wan backed toward the door, dropping his credits on the counter as he tucked his power converters into his tattered cloak. Just then the two creatures immerged from the rubble, and as the Rodian clumsily drew a blaster, the human reached out and summoned the weapon out of the alien’s hand. The human quickly stepped forward and smacked the Rodian over the head, knocking him unconscious.

Obi-Wan stood frozen in place with wide eyes. Was he losing his mind or had this human just used the Force? _Perhaps I just saw what I wanted to see._

Now that the scuffle was over Kenobi finally took in the details. The human was a female of moderate height; she wore form-fitting trousers with a heavy utility belt, battered combat boots, and a worn leather jacket. Her head was wrapped in a scarf for protection against the brutal binary suns, large goggles hung around her neck for the same purpose, and she had a blaster strapped to her right hip.

Slowly, she turned toward him, her shoulders heaving as she fought to catch her breath. The Force was practically vibrating around her. Kenobi sensed she was injured before he saw the bloodstains on her shirt and pants. For a moment, they stood transfixed, each staring at the other in disbelief. She was fair, her hair almost white beneath her cowl, and her heavy-lidded blue eyes were encompassed by goggle-shaped tan marks. The Jedi couldn’t remember the last time he had seen anything so lovely; on Tatooine the people were as brutal as the environment.

She took a step toward him but doubled over, the wound in her abdomen getting the better of her. She pressed a hand to the bleeding. That’s when her legs buckled.

Kenobi caught her just in time, gently easing her to the ground as he cradled her in his arms. She stared up at him, her strength faltering, when recognition suddenly brightened her eyes. She touched his cheek with trembling, bloody fingers. “Obi-Wan?”

Before she could say anymore her eyes rolled back as her head fell listlessly to the side.

For the first time in a long time Kenobi didn’t know what to do. This woman seemed to know him but he did not recognize her. She was badly wounded and needed care but he had no knowledge about who she was, why she was here, or why she had been brawling with the Rodian.

In the end, he did the only thing that would protect them both; he took her home with him.

  


* * *

  


She could feel the room around her before she even opened her eyes. A gentle breeze played across her skin, cooling her flushed cheeks. She could smell leather and sunbaked stone, the arid earth and the dry air crackling against the snug hut that surrounded her. The door to the outside stood open, allowing the cooling dusk to alleviate the indoor heat. She could see pink and lavender sunlight streaking across paling desert sky as the binary suns made their descent.

Her jacket and belt hung from a peg on the wall and her boots were neatly arranged next to the small cot where she lay. She looked down at her aching body; her shirt, stiff with dry blood, had a large rent down the front. Pulling back the fabric she nearly fainted looking at the ghastly wound in her abdomen; it was healing but was tender and bruised. She gently brushed her fingers over the laceration.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She violently started.

A man had appeared in the doorway, his features backlit against the setting suns. As he moved into the hut he fixed her with a piercing gaze. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She was struggling to remember how she’d come to be in this place, struggling to understand how it was possible that the man who stood before her was still alive. “I thought you were dead,” she croaked, her voice dry and brittle from lack of use.

His eyes sharpened and his brow arched severely. “Who are you?”

She weakly sat up. The cot where she lay was pushed against a wall, so she propped her back against the stone and looked up at the man she had once known.

“You’re just as handsome as I remember,” she said gently.

He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but she saw it. Reaching out through the Force she could sense that he did not believe he was handsome. In fact, he seemed altered in ways she had not expected; he looked like a slightly sun-bleached version of the famous Jedi she had known, but inside she sensed he was twisted with anxiety and heartbreak, tense like a spring ready to snap.

As their Force signatures touched he bristled and took a step away.

“You don’t remember me,” she said, a sad smile playing across her lips.

“Your eyes,” he said quietly, almost a whisper. “There is something…” He fell silent.

She did her best to put forth a soothing aura. “I have not come here to hurt you, Obi-Wan. I am not a threat.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall opposite her. “How did you find me?”

“I wasn’t looking for you.”

“Really?” he said skeptically.

Her tone became firmer. “As I said before, I thought you were dead. The holonet claimed you were a casualty of Order 66.”

His jaw tightened. “And I’m to believe that you’re _not_ working for the Empire? That you just happened upon me by mere coincidence?”

Her mouth fell open in disbelief. “An Empirical agent? Me?”

“What makes you so beyond suspicion?”

Anger was building in her. She tried to push herself up but winced and immediately fell back. “How dare you!” she managed to choke out. “The Empire killed my mother. Why would I work for those barbarians?” She pressed a hand to her aching wound. “You truly must not remember my family.”

For the first time, Kenobi’s distrust eased. “How do you know me?”

The lady took a deep breath before she spoke. “Not long after the Clone Wars began you came to my home world of Saiph. My mother was the sovereign queen. You arrived with your Padawan…” Kenobi visibly blanched “…and the two of you helped protect my mother and our world from a Separatist invasion.”

Obi-Wan’s features softened. “Saiph?”

“Yes.”

His brow furrowed as he sought the elusive memories from so many years ago. “I… I remember it,” he whispered. Then he looked right into her eyes. “You and your sisters… you were all Force sensitive but your mother would not allow you to be trained as Jedi.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

“And I remember _you_.” All the Saiphian princesses had been smitten with Kenobi, fawning over him day and night; but the second-born had been different. At first she was serious and shy, but as time went on she proved to be fierce and levelheaded, often fighting by Obi-Wan’s side and helping strategize before battles. He had liked her very much, more than was appropriate for a Jedi. “Edana.”

“You have not completely forgotten me, then?” she teased.

“You’ll have to forgive my aged memory.” He crossed and sat beside her, reluctantly meeting her gaze. “ _Edana, lady of fire_ they called you. How could I forget such a warrior?”

“You are not so aged.” She smiled as she searched his face, now even more handsome with age. The creases in his brow and the slight grey in his auburn sideburns suited him. But there was something apprehensive in his energy. She reached out with the Force. “You are embarrassed,” she said gently.

He blushed and looked down.

Edana placed a hand on his arm. “Why, Obi-Wan?”

His breath caught in his chest. No one had said his real name in over five years. He had forgotten what it sounded like. “I’m not the man you remember.”

She snorted. “Why? Because your cloak has holes and because you’re not standing at the head of an army?” She tightened her grip and shook him. “The things that make you great, the things that I was in awe of when we first met, are all right here, Master Kenobi.” She touched her fingertip to his chest just above his heart. “Whether you’re leading a battle from the helm of a star cruiser or living a quiet life in a humble hut, the things that make you remarkable remain unchanged.”

He looked at her once again and saw something he had not seen for a long time – someone who actually knew him, understood him, knew his past. The tightness in his chest loosened. He wouldn’t have to hide in front of her. He had spent the past five years on this gods forsaken planet repressing everything – his connection to the Force, his reputation as a hero, his position as a Jedi. He was Ben the hermit, living in the middle of nowhere, left to die alone as a nobody. He still wasn’t used to the idea. Comparing where his life began to where it would end was shockingly disparate.

But now the Force had brought them together in this moment. What on earth did it all mean?

He realized it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the present. Obi-Wan Kenobi was suddenly calm.

“No one has escaped the Empire unscathed,” Edana whispered, almost to herself. “We have all been altered.”

Kenobi suddenly thought of the woman Edana had been and the family to whom she was devoted. “Where are your sisters?”

She swallowed thickly. “When our mother was killed we scattered. I don’t know where they are but we are supposed to meet again in a set place on a specific day.” Her eyes betrayed her fear. “I hope they all arrive.”

Obi-Wan took her hand in his. “I’m so sorry,” he said kindly. “You and your family deserved so much better.”

Edana placed her other hand on top of his. “We all deserved better, Obi-Wan.”

  


* * *

  


The smell of sulfur burned his nose.

Cinders danced all around, singeing his tunic.

Despite the lava river that flowed in front of him and the wind that tousled his hair, everything was oddly quiet.

Kenobi stood, staring out over the roiling magma, tears silently slipping down his cheeks. This had been the place, the very slope where his friend laid dying. “Anakin,” he whispered.

His heart had an emptiness that could not be filled. Years had passed since their fateful duel on Mustafar yet Obi-Wan could not find peace. Had Anakin Skywalker died that day? Should Kenobi have been merciful and finished the young Sith off? Something about that moment felt unfinished.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

A warning from the Force tingled up his spine. He felt darkness manifesting behind him as a shadow appeared and took physical form. Kenobi slowly turned, dread clutching his heart.

What he saw was part monster, part machine, towering over him like a nightmare.

The creature drifted forward.

Kenobi was frozen in place. He could not bring himself to speak. He feared the shadow before him, feared it contained a secret that could ruin him, but he also felt like this meeting was inevitable, that nothing he did would ever prevent it.

The monster ignited a lightsaber, the blade glittering crimson.

Obi-Wan had no weapon.

He knew what was about to happen.

“You should not have come back, old man,” the shadow said, bearing down on him.

As the blade arched through the air, Kenobi’s consciousness cried out, but it was too late. He screamed at the same moment he was cut down. “Anakin!”

  


* * *

  


Obi-Wan woke choking and gasping for breath, the memory of Mustafar brimstone still burning his sinuses. His heart pounded as his emotions reached a nearly uncontrollable peak. He lay still and squeezed his eyes shut, embracing the silence around him, forcing his mind to focus on the dark room that encompassed him. _I am in my home_ , he thought. _I am safe._ For a moment his heart began to calm, but the respite did not last long.

_Anakin._

Kenobi’s eyes opened wide as the name echoed through his mind. He stared blindly up into the pitch-black room. He could sense that it was still hours before dawn. The nights on Tatooine seemed to last forever…

_Tatooine. Trapped for eternity on the horrible planet where Anakin was from._ Kenobi cupped a hand over his eyes and rubbed his temples. _Will I never be free of him?_

The thought caused a surprising swell of emotions in Obi-Wan’s chest. His jaw clenched painfully tight as he held his breath, trying to stop the sudden urge to sob.

_Anakin._

The monster in his dream… the dream that had felt frighteningly real.

What did it all mean?

Was Anakin the monster or was Obi-Wan?

Had his friend not died that day on Mustafar?

The thought of Anakin trapped inside that hideous mechanical suite was the final straw. Obi-Wan threw off his sheets and sat up on the edge of the bed as a sob caught in his throat. He must distract himself; he had to get as far away from his dream as possible.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he dropped his head into his hands.

“Obi-Wan?”

Kenobi jumped so violently that he nearly fell off the bed. He had completely forgotten that another human was sharing his home.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said quietly, too embarrassed to look up at her now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

Edana knelt before Obi-Wan but did not touch him. “I wasn’t asleep,” she confessed. “I rarely sleep anymore.”

“I know the feeling,” he said darkly, rubbing his eyes, trying to hide his tears and quell his emotions.

“Do you have nightmares often?” Edana asked cautiously, knowing a Jedi would not be pleased to admit his dreams were haunted.

Kenobi froze, unsure how to answer her pointed question.

She could sense that he was ashamed and afraid, so she reached out and took his hands in hers. He did not respond; his fingers didn’t close around hers, he didn’t ease into her touch, he simply sat there frozen. “I’m not leaving you alone, Obi-Wan.”

He glanced at her, his face tight with emotions.

“Your braining is screaming that you want me to go away, but everything else about you says you have been on your own far too long.”

His rigidity faltered as his self-control began to fissure.

Slowly, she rose and sat next to him on the bed. “You cried out ‘Anakin’ in your sleep. Wasn’t that your Padawan’s name?”

Kenobi swallowed thickly and nodded, unable to control his voice enough to speak.

“Did he survive Order 66 as well?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Please don’t ask me about him,” he managed to whisper.

Edana squeezed his hands reassuringly. She wanted desperately to help him and to ease his agitated spirit. “What can I do for you?” she asked.

He looked into her eyes, his own blue orbs round and exhausted. “I don’t know what I need,” he confessed, looking shattered.

Edana closed her eyes and let the Force flow through her into Kenobi, gauging his feelings. He was sleep deprived, bored, and bitter. He felt his identity had been destroyed, as though he had been robbed of all his defining attributes, and his life was nearly devoid of human contact. Edana’s heart tightened. How could one man endure so much?

She opened her eyes and took in his features; the handsome sharp brow line, the broad nose, the soft eyelashes. He was a little weathered, a little crinkled from the sun, and his hair was uncharacteristically unkempt due to the constant high desert winds, but she thought the look suited him.

Edana felt the Force shift around her and she instantly understood what this man needed. He lived in isolation, an unnatural state, a condition often used as punishment for prisoners. This hero of the Republic deserved better.

She slid forward, pulling him toward her. She slipped one hand around his neck while she cupped his face with the other, gently pressing her cheek to his. For a moment he seemed startled but then he suddenly yielded, melting into her touch. He buried his face in her neck and she wrapped her arms all the way around him, holding him tightly. “It’s all right, Obi-Wan,” she whispered.

Events had taken an unexpected turn; he was unaccustomed to another person’s company much less their unsolicited embraced, but Kenobi could not deny how intensely comforting it was to be touch by another being. After his nightmare, his initial instinct had been to hide all emotion, but Edana’s presence in the Force had drawn him out instead. He realized he didn’t feel vulnerable; for the first time in a long time he felt fortified. It was a stark lesson on the importance of contact with other living creatures.

Obi-Wan slid his arms around her back and pulled her against him, trying to give as much comfort as he received. Edana was kind and empathetic, but he could sense she also carried a great deal of pain. He ran his hand up her spine and cupped the base of her neck, gently running his fingers through her soft hair. He wished time would stop and allow them to stay in this moment forever. They held still, letting the Force wrap around them for a long time.

Edana was a little shocked by her own forwardness. When she had first met Obi-Wan, she was a young newly commissioned officer in her mother’s army, fierce and vying for action. Kenobi was a grown man, a stable, fearless Jedi Master; he was dashing, disarmingly handsome with a surprising sense of humor. She had been drawn to him, though so had every other female (and male for that matter). She was in awe of him, and though she got the not entirely unfounded sense that he was drawn to her as well, she would never have been so bold as to touch him much less wrap her body around his. But she was a grown woman now and realized that youthful timidity and decorum was useless in times of emotional need. Touching Obi-Wan now had been the right thing to do.

As she slowly began to pull away, he gave her a brief half smile, roguish charm flashing in his eyes. Before she could stop herself she leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. She could have blamed it on the Force, could have said she was caught up in the moment, but the truth was she simply had always wanted to kiss Obi-Wan Kenobi.

To her surprise the Jedi gently kissed her back; she could feel him savoring her full lips.

When they parted they did not break their embrace; they stayed close together, their noses touching, each feeling the other’s breath on their tongue.

Edana worried her audacious kiss had offended the Jedi and his Code. “Forgive me,” she whispered, though she only half meant it.

Kenobi battled with himself for a moment. He had felt a strange connection with this woman from the very first moment he met her. While all her sisters had practically thrown themselves at him, Edana had simply fought by his side, proved herself an equal, and had made him laugh with her quick wit and dry sarcasm. Her stunning almond-shaped eyes seemed to hold ancient mysteries and the way her lips curved when she smiled had nearly driven him to distraction. Now, eight years later, the Force had once again drawn them together, and this time there was nothing really to stand between them. Except perhaps the Jedi Code.

_The Code be damned_ , he instantly thought. He had spent his life living by the Code. Right now he was going to live by the Force.

He cupped her cheek in his warm dry hand and pulled her to him, kissing her slowly like he’d always wanted, enjoying her succulent lips and the smell of her skin, taking in every detail. He immediately felt intoxicated as she kissed him back and ran her hands up his strong neck. Being touched, being _desired_ , was enough to drive them both mad. He pushed his fingers into her hair as his kiss deepened. He wanted to worship every inch of her; he traced her eyebrow then her cheekbone then the corner of her mouth with his thumb before coaxing her lips open even wider. She could not repress a gentle moan as he scooped his strong arms all the way around her back and pulled her into his lap. She twined her fingers through his tousled auburn hair and pressed her body against his as he began to kiss down her neck.

Edana had imagined this moment many times. When they first met she had idolized him, placed him on a pedestal built from grand tales of his accomplishments. After they spent months working together she knew the rumors of Kenobi’s legendary skill had not been exaggerated, but she had grown fond of his imperfections as well. And though they both fought to keep their concentration on the task at hand, Edana had not been able to ignore that his power, his skill, and his acumen coupled with his unfathomable good looks and fine body made him a man by which to measure all others.

As she ran her hands across his taught shoulders and felt his muscular arms around her, she knew she had been right in _all_ her assumptions. Jedi or not, Kenobi was a man of passion. He drew her tunic open and kissed his way down her body as he slipped his hands inside the fabric, his rough desert-worn palms sliding across her skin before pulling her tighter against him.

She suddenly gasped and recoiled, pressing a hand to her abdomen as she held her breath.

“Your wound,” he apologized. “I’d forgotten.”

“It’s all right,” she said through clenched teeth, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. “I’m fine.”

Kenobi remembered how Edana had said the same thing on the battlefield after being shot three times by droid’s blaster. “You’re not fine.” His hands clenched into fists and he pulled away, as though afraid to touch her. “You should rest...”

“No,” She cut him off.

Her firm tone startled Kenobi. Her gaze was strong and unyielding. “I have no more bacta to heal you properly,” he argued.

“No, Obi-Wan.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long time, both unsure how stubborn they should be. He finally admitted that they each wanted the same thing. He took a deep breath before making up his mind. He reached forward, wrapping his left arm around her, spreading his hand flat across her back. Then he pressed his right hand to her wound and closed his eyes. Stretching out through the Force he searched his memories, trying to find the healing skills Qui-Gon had taught him as a young boy. A tingling began in his fingers as the Force glittered to life, blending Edana’s Force signature with his own, willing her wound to heal. The sensation was strange and cold; she clutched him, fighting the discomfort as he held her in a reassuring embrace.

Neither could say how long the process took; wrapped in the Force, time seemed to stop as their minds became blind to the world around them. When Obi-Wan finally opened his eyes, he felt somehow empty and full at the same time, as though he had transcended a new understanding of the Force. Edana looked down in disbelief. Nothing remained of her wound but a long red scar.

“Something to remember me by,” Kenobi joked, taking a deep breath after his intense exertion.

Edana leaned back and examined his face, tracing her fingertips across his brow, down his cheek, all the way down his strong neck, trying to memorize every detail. “My forbidden Jedi,” she whispered before placing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. Then she stood, backing a few steps away from him but never breaking eye contact. She opened her tunic fully and let it drop to the floor, revealing her entire body to him. Kenobi swallowed nervously, but he did not look away. “Now, Master Kenobi,” she said, “I shall give _you_ something to remember _me_ by.”

  


* * *

  


Kenobi knew it was a fleeting encounter, a small gift from the Force in his life’s darkest period. The galaxy often seemed like a cold, bleak thing, like a swirling mass of vapors and molecules and emptiness. But on a rare occasion, something happens that replenishes hope for kindness, for validation, for requited affection. Edana reminded Obi-Wan that though space and time were vast and twisting, warmth and purpose existed as well.

As they lay in his bed, she slept in his arms. He buried his face in her aromatic hair and breathed deeply, remembering the day he first met her. “My lady of fire,” he whispered before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Special Note: The story's title comes from Edana's name, which in Irish means "fire," in Gaelic means "fiery," and in Celtic means "passionate." Hence _Fire on Tatooine_.
> 
> serendipityaey's special requests for this story:  
> \- something near the end of the war or on Tatooine  
> \- with someone he already knows, whether or not they've already been together  
> \- something with him needing comfort! and mush, and wherever it leads from there
> 
> I hope I did you justice even a little bit :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Kudos and comments are very welcome.
> 
> Much love!


End file.
